Milky Way
by StackofStories
Summary: Benjamin moves to the extra ordinary town of Little Whinging and finds the most extraordinary little boy.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Benjamin moves to the extra ordinary town of Little Whinging and finds the most extraordinary little boy.**

**AN: WIP. I don't know when I'll update this, but the pairing has been on my mind for like ever. This is unbeta'd with a rough edit from your's truly. I apologize for any and all mistakes. Eventual slash.**

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**Milky Way**

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You've been watching It.

Every single day for the past two weeks. Since you've made home in this extra ordinary community, you've been watching It. You think back to the cloudy day where the wind shifted and the sweetest scent, the strongest aphrodisiac, washed over you. The opportunity to have It was in the palm of your hand, but you waited. The pressure on your bottom lip gone.

You waited and learned of It that lived across from you. It that lived in a house like all the others in Little Whinging. Two stories with four bedrooms and two bathrooms. A painted red door with a brass #4 the only differing factor.

It lived with a zoo of people: A whale of man who waddled as he walked, his multiple chins shaking with each step he took; the whale man left the house at seven sharp and didn't come home until 8 p.m. on the dot. It also lived with a giraffe of a woman, she had a long, skinny neck and a high shrieky voice. The giraffe left the house only to gossip loudly or to brag about something with the other ordinaries . Sometimes, she came out to snoop through the neighbors' rubbish bins at the crack of dawn. Lastly, It lived with another being, the pig. This one the nastiest of them all.

The pig was a mutant between the giraffe and the whale. He toddled as he walked, round and pink resembling a beach ball, and had such high, wailing voice like a banshee. The pig liked to blame It for everything that went wrong and often chased It round the block with a group of squealing piglets.

You never liked bullies, but never intervene. Not just yet anyway.

It was the one that quietly creeped from the house just before the sun poked from the horizon and set to the work. It wore stretched, torn jumpers and trainers that resembled swiss cheese. It never said a word, getting to work pulling out weeds and the like. It only stepped back inside at 9, 12, and 5 for an hour each. It didn't fully go in until the last of the sun's dying rays.

You've been skulking around long enough, the time is now. You dress in your most casual clothes and practice your most welcoming smile. All to attract It. You leave the house and walk across the single paved road that separate you from It.

You wave and nod to the nosy neighbors whose eyes follow you. You wonder if they notice the way your gait changed every so slightly, how you slow with each step, and you stop for the millionth of each second to assess It in front of you. Your nose flared, you take in the scents that surround you, a precursory low warning growl emitted from you — a sign to any potential predators that It was yours and yours alone.

You get to the lawn gliding across like some ghostly specter. Your bottom lip is punctured by the time you crouch down beside It. You breathe again and it's enough to send you into a frenzy, the smell alone made venom pool in your mouth…

It turned toward you. You wait for the expected to happen, for It to scream, for It's heart to beat in a frantic rhythm, or even for the smell of urine to ruin the divine scent because surely It knew who was prey and predator.

Instead, wide emerald green eyes framed with large glasses -much too big for It's tiny face- focus on you. Thin chapped lips twitch into a simple smile. "I Harry," It said. It offered a small hand browned by dirt.

You blink and then laugh. This is a situation you never imagined; prey not scared but welcoming? You make a rash decision, your hunger temporarily abated. Your hand enclosed around It's— his hand, giving a firm shake.

"Benjamin."

"Will you be my friend!" Harry asked— exclaimed, leaning forward.

"Sure?"

"Wicked!" Harry grinned, presenting all his little pearly whites. "Dudley scares away everyone!" he was bouncing excitedly. "We should play a game, I don't know how to play lots of games but I learneded things really, really fast…"

Benjamin nodded along, humming and grinning in all the right spots while his mind raced. His observations have failed to make obvious that It, Harry, was a child. A strange young one so starved for attention that his innate senses failed to warn him against him, the predator. Benjamin never fully understood the phrase of they look at it you as if you've hung the moon and the stars until now; Harry looked at him like that. Fifteen minutes hadn't even passed.

"How about we play the easiest game," Benjamin suggested. "Why don't we play hide and seek?"

"Ok!" Harry jumped to his feet and pushed up his wire-rimmed glasses. "I hide, you seek," he took off running. He was fast for a human. "No peeking and you have to count to one hundred!" he yelled over his shoulder.

Benjamin's smile grew wider. It wasn't like he needed to peek but he'd bite. He covered his eyes with his hands, "one, two, three…"

He could hear Harry's muffled giggling as if he yelled. His quick footsteps were like stomps on a creaky staircases, his heartbeat a constant thrum in his ears and if that wasn't enough his sweet aroma wafted over to him, cruelly goading him to let loose. "Come and get me!" it practically screamed.

"–twenty-five, one hundred. Ready or not here I come." He started to walk around aimlessly. Harry's heart was racing. He was moving as Benjamin moved. Benjamin had him in his peripheral vision.

"I wonder where Harry could be?" he said aloud. He ducked behind the hedges and bushes, pawing through the green foilage. "Not here?"

"Ah?" he spun on his heel, bending down to check under a creepy ceramic gnome. "Not here, either?" He scratched his head. "Harry's not here in front… mmm, he must be a pretty good hider."

He glanced around the small spruced up lawn, slowly, inching back up. The neighbors were watching him. Humans thought they were so discreet by peeking over fences, the newspaper, or casually jogging by. Well, he gave each and every one of them a pointed grin and wave.

He whirled around and rubbed his chin."I guess if he's not in the front he must be in the back."

"Harry. Where are youuu~?" he said in a singsong voice.

He spotted the toolshed in the back nestled by a long row of colorful flowers. He didn't linger too long on the silhouette of Harry. The boy occasionally peeked out from behind the toolshed with a hand clamped around his mouth to muffle the delighted snickers.

Benjamin continued forward. He stopped every now and then to check the bushes or a random overturned stone. His own amusement grew with every slipped giggle from Harry. At last, he made it into the backyard; there he pretended to survey the area.

"I wonder if I were to check behind this big suspicious toolshed…" he smirked. He headed straight, his pace decetively casual as louder giggles were released. Harry's heartbeat rose the closer he got.

It seemed Harry couldn't stand the anticipation because he leapt away from the toolshed just as Benjamin leaned around to 'find' Harry. "You found me!" he exclaimed, his cheeks flushed. "You found me! But you cheated!"

Benjamin pointed to himself in mock offense. "Me cheated? No! How?"

Harry crossed his arms. "You didn't count to a hundred, you counted to twenty-five. I heard."

Benjamin chuckled. He had enough sense to look somewhat petulant. "Alright, I admit too it. What do you suggest I do to fix such a horrid transgression?"

Harry's scrunched his nose, staring at him oddly. "What's a transa-gret-she-un?"

"Transgression," Benjamin repeated. "It's like a word for breaking the rules."

"Ooh okay," Harry said. He nodded to himself then he righted his stare once more on Benjamin. "For your transagretsion" –Benjamin grinned- "we have to play another game; a fair one! I be the seeker," he pointed at himself. "You be the hider!" he pointed at Benjamin.

"Alright?" Harry said, his arms still crossed.

"Sounds fair, little man."

"Hide! I'll count to ten!" Harry shooed Benjamin off. He slapped his hands over his face with a loud smack, loudly starting the countdown.

Benjamin hid.

He couldn't help but indulge Harry whenever he pleaded for them to play one game after another. They played dozens upon dozens of short childish games, it never seemed to dampen Harry's energy, quite the opposite. He was even more insistent to play with him.

"Benjamin!" Harry squealed when he had caught him by the waist in their fourth game of tag. "You've got me, now, let me go!"

"Really? I wonder if I shoul—"

"Boy!" shrieked the giraffe. "What do you think you're doing?" Harry froze in his grasp. His green eyes darted up to his before he ripped away from him. Benjamin's gaze followed. He was still in the same position, like a statue.

"What have I told you about talking to strangers?" the giraffe hissed down at Harry who had hurried to stand in front of her. He was smaller this way, his shoulders pushing in and his head hung low and tucked.

"I not supposed too…" Harry whispered.

"So you know the rule and you deliberately disobeyed me, wait until Vernon gets ho—"

Harry's head snapped up, he was trembling. "Aunt Tunia! No! I-I-I—"

The giraffe regarded her apparent nephew with a cold, disdainful look. "Get in the house," she ordered. "You know what you're supposed to do."

"Aunt Tunia, don't tell Uncle Vernon, I didn't mean too—"

"Shall I add on that you aren't listening to directions?" she asked. Harry shook his head. He sent a lasting mournful look to Benjamin before he ran into the house leaving him with the giraffe.

Said giraffe had a satisfied grin on her face. She combed through her mousy brown hair before she turned to him. Gone was the coldness replaced by artificial cheer. "Hi, I'm sorry about the boy." She laughed lightly, shrugging her shoulders as if this was some idle chatter.

"We just have to be so firm with him you see, he's a handful. I'm sure the neighbors have told you how he doesn't play well with the other children unlike my dear Dudders." She laughed again. She was fond of that, it was like her way of trying to smooth everything over, to make the situation normal. "It's best not to be around him."

Benjamin eased up. He straightened out his clothes and patted out some dirt that collected. He played relaxed. "There might be an underlying reason why he doesn't play well with other children or talks to strangers. Those are early warning signs for heading down a dangerous path later in life."

"Exactly," the giraffe let out a delighted titter.

"My father's a bobbie and my mom a social worker." He nodded toward his house behind him, #5. "I've been observing Harry and I figured my Dad or Mom could talk to him—"

"That won't be necessary, I assure you," the giraffe said hurriedly.

Ah, Benjamin loved the decadent smell of nervousness. It spiked the adrenaline, made the blood circulate a little faster throughout the body. He still wore the same genial grin that refused to leave him since he started to play with Harry. "Ok," he said. "But if I continue to see Harry be unsociable and wear such clothing… or anything else, it is my obligation to say something. You understand?"

"Of course," the giraffe said after a pause. "I understand."

Benjamin nodded, grin still in place. "Tell Harry that I'll see him tomorrow."

"I'll pass the message along."

"Great!" he began his trek back across the asphalt. He stepped back before he got to the sidewalk. "Oh and it's nice to finally meet you, my name's Benjamin," he said.

"Petunia Dursley," she said weakly.

Benjamin's grin widened privy to Petunia. Huh. He always hated petunias. Ugly flowers. Uglier name.

The next day Benjamin decided to leave his house at an earlier time, around eight, when Harry would first leave his home. He waited in the front yard criss-cross applesauce, patient.

Harry arrived two or three minutes passed his usual time. A brown toolbelt hung loosely around his waist. His clothes marginally better than yesterday's. He spared Benjamin a startled glance, then, he got to work without even word to him.

Benjamin's smile dropped. "Hey now, what's wrong? I thought we were friends."

"I not supposed to talk to strangers," Harry said blankly.

Benjamin inched forward. "I'm not a stranger. We're friends, remember?" he meant only to touch Harry's shoulder when he pulled back with a grimace; he held his shoulder. "Harry?"

He wouldn't look at him. "Don't touch there," he said. He moved further away.

He only rose an eyebrow at the strange demand. Benjamin extended his hand to brush against his back, Harry flinched back, grimacing in obvious pain. Yet he said not a word nor did he look at him. Benjamin processed. He'd been on this Earth for too long to be ignorant to such obvious signs. Still he asked, if only for courtesy's sake.

"Harry, what happened?"

"I not supposed to talk to strangers."

"You won't get in trouble if you tell me, I promise," he soothed.

"I not supposed to talk to strangers."

"You can tell me I'm your friend."

"_I not supposed to talk to strangers_," he repeated insistently. He began to dig into the soft ground. Benjamin got up.

"Fine, I'll go talk to your Aunt then," he began toward to house. Harry leapt up and pulled on his shirt.

"You can't! You can't! You can't!" Harry begged. He tugged back with all his strength.

"I can and I am."

"I not hurt, promise!"

Benjamin abruptly turned to face Harry. He bended down to the same level as him. Harry was pale-faced, trembling. "Tell me what happened."

Harry shifted in place, his stare firmly locked on the ground. "I fall down the stairs when I was playin' with Dudley. It was accident."

Benjamin hummed. He didn't need his enhanced senses to see that Harry was lying, but he went along. "How'd you fall?"

"I was playin'," Harry mumbled, fisting his large shirt.

"Uh huh, but how did you fall? Did you trip as you went down the stairs, when you were walking?"

Harry nodded. Right. Benjamin shot back up. "You're lying to me." He went. Harry followed.

"I not lying!"

Benjamin didn't bother to answer. With the door open from Harry's arrival he slipped into the home, Harry at his heels, valiantly trying to pull him back. Benjamin kept going down the narrow hallway, smelling breakfast and hearing it being devoured by a crowd of three with minimal conversation. He was not expecting the giraffe, the pig, and the whale to be up and together at this hour, but it was an early Saturday morning. No work for the whale. No morning play dates for pig. Giraffe barely left the house.

He stopped about halfway to the kitchen, motionless, as he stared down the cupboard presented to the right of him. He couldn't exactly pinpoint it, but there was something utterly miserable about the small space; it's presence alone had repulsed him and the horrid smell! It was like an acrid mixture of salty tears, suffering and blood — Harry's salty tears, suffering, and blood! So strong and heavy it was, the scents told him this was where Harry dwelled.

"Harry," he said slowly. "What is this?"

Harry abruptly let go off him. He hurried in front of the cupboard. His small body barely big enough to cover the entrance of the damned thing. "N-nothing!" he stuttered.

"Can I see inside this nothing?"

"No!" Harry shook his head. Benjamin could smell the new tears that threatened to spill and a strong sense of dread that clung to Harry like a second skin. He frowned but did not press him on the subject. He continued down the hall where the animals were being fed.

Harry was still behind him when he got to the door that separated them from his animal family. "I not hurt!" Harry whispered anxiously. "Please Benjamin, go 'way!"

"No."

He entered the kitchen all smiles. Jelly and bread crumbs smeared around both the pig and the whale's mouths. The giraffe better with a white cup pressed to her lips. Harry was at his pants leg clutching the jean material firmly behind Benjamin.

"Who the devil are you?" roared the whale, his beady black eyes murderous. He glanced toward Harry. "Freak!" he gritted.

"I sorry!" shouted Harry.

Benjamin waggled his index finger. "Don't blame Harry here. I wanted to talk to you." he calmly walked forward and grabbed a spare plate. He hummed as he took what was left of the breakfast: some fluffy yellow eggs, some toast, the rest of the bacon and sausages, and a couple of spoonfuls of buttery grits. He eyed the pig's milk before he decided against it, who knew what sort of germs the boy carried.

He gave the plate and spoon to Harry. "Call it a hunch, but I bet you haven't eaten yet."

Harry's silence said it all.

"You go on and enjoy breakfast. I'll just stay here and chat."

Harry shivered. "You not going hurt them?" Interesting. Had Harry recognized him as being dangerous?

"Cross my heart and hope to die," Benjamin crossed his undead heart. Harry nodded and sent one last nervous glance to his family of animals before he went to follow his directions. The kitchen door swinging to a close behind his retreating form.

Benjamin pulled out the only unoccupied chair across from the pig. He plopped down, giving them an award-winning smile.

"Now see here! I don't know who you thi—"

"Ah! Before we start this rodeo," Benjamin pointed at the pig child stuffing his face, "I think all children should leave. This is a conversation for adults."

The whale, red in the face held onto his spoon tight, refusing to say anything. The giraffe pinched her lips together. She was born with some type of sense because she opened her mouth when her husband wouldn't. "Dudders, go join the boy in the other room."

The pig grunted. Piggy was defiant to Mama, he stayed in place.

"Piggy, it's best if you listen to your dear mother," Benjamin warned.

The child sent him a nasty glare before turning back to his plate. Rare that Benjamin got so worked up over children, but he did not tolerate disrespect, especially when he was making the effort to be cordial and not go on a complete blood-rage.

"Child—!"

"Dudley go outside!" the whale spoke.

"But daaaad!" the fat piglet oinked.

"Now!" roared the whale. The piggy cowered momentarily before he started to waddle off with angry crocodile tears. Benjamin stopped him with a cool hand to the shoulder, his grin still in place.

"You make sure to play nicely with your cousin, if I hear one breath of complaint they'll be trouble." he allowed his canines to lengthen an inch or two and for his eyes to bleed red.

The pig squeaked. Benjamin turned him loose amused to see how fast the pig moved when properly cowed. He twisted back around to face the giraffe and whale, his hand propped under his cheek.

"I should call Child Protective Services or the bobbies at the very least," he started pleasantly.

The giraffe spluttered. Benjamin was learning that the whale's skintone had many variations of red, right now, it was more of a bright cherry. As if he were a child and he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"You're breaking and entering!" screamed the whale. "You'll be doing us a favor, interrupting our breakfast, taking our food, touching our son!"

Benjamin raised an eyebrow. "Touching your son? What sort of touches are you talking about, an unlawful hand to the shoulder? I wonder what they'd say to the marks on Harry's back?"

The whale was now a boorish red. "That little freak—"

"Careful of your next words, Vernon," Benjamin's happy tone went cold. "That so called freak is the only thing that's stopping me from killing you, your wife, and your son."

"Are you threatening me? In my own house!" the whale slammed a shaking fist to the table. "I will not a have a deadbeat punk lik—"

Benjamin shot forward. He wrapped a single hand around the whale's meaty throat, easily lifting him up in the air despite him being triple his size. The whale tried to struggle out of his hold, kicking and scratching to no avail; the more he struggled the more pain he was in.

"I have warned you," Benjamin said in a sugary-sweet tone. "My patience is thinning. I see that speaking to you in a calm manner just won't do it. So, you'll stay and listen to me or I will break your neck." he squeezed for extra emphasis, loving the way the whale choked, his vibrant red edging toward a purplish-blue hue.

"Now, as I told your wife," he nodded toward the stark-frozen giraffe, "that my parents work in the social justice field. I have been watching and taking notes on Harry, I have ample evidence to put you two behind bars for a very long time."

The whale wheezed pitifully, shaking his head.

"Shh, don't get worked up," Benjamin appeased. "I won't do that. Not yet at least, but you're trying me." He laughed.

"You constantly insult me!" Benjamin dug his nails in the man's soft skin ever so careful to keep his strength at bay. "I should kill you, but I hate to see a child without any sort of family even a terrible one. So, I'm giving you another chance. There won't be a third."

Gripping the man tight his attention flowed right on to the pale-faced giraffe. "I have some requests regarding Harry, understand."

She nodded, eyeing him fearfully before her gaze darted to her wheezing husband. "Don't mind him, he's fine. You should focus on Harry. I'm going to go ahead and assume from that you fail to fulfill the most basic of needs regarding Harry. So, let's go down the list. He needs a new wadrobe, good clothes, I don't much care if they come from a secondhand shop or not, but they will all fit and be to his liking. He will receive adequate clothing for all seasons and for the school-year, which reminds me… is he enrolled?"

The giraffe licked her lips, her heart rate jumping so fast…

Benjamin saved her from answering. "You will enroll him as soon as the next school year starts. You will be taking him to the hospital as often as you do your son for the checkups and whatnot.

"In addition, the cupboard," Benjamin clenched his hands at next thought that came forth. This family should be on their knees kissing each and every one of Harry's little toes because if their disrespect didn't kill them, this would of. "For your sake I won't go into it, but that will be cleaned out immediately and used for its' intended purpose.

"Harry will be given a proper bedroom with toys, a new mattress, sheets, and basically every single item you've given your son, it will be new and working. Are we clear?"

The giraffe nodded, swallowing.

"Food. Harry will be given three proper meals a day like your son. Snacks are at your own discretion, but he will be fed. Chores. You will assign proper chores for a boy his age and if you give him chores, your precious son will be doing the same. Again, if I hear one complaint from Harry about his treatment here, there will be consequences."

Benjamin squeezed the whale; he really liked doing that. It was like the whale was some sort of giant stress ball, a perfect catharsis.

"Let's see, we went through the basics of food, shelter, clothing. What else is there? You will steer your son from bullying Harry. He shouldn't be bullied by his own cousin, a little teasing never hurts anyone, but a neighborhood game of Harry Hunting goes too far.

"Punishments are as you see fit. You punish Harry if he is rightly in the wrong, again though, punish Harry as if you were punishing your own son. No more of those belt marks on him. There will be no bruises or marks of any kind on Harry; a good smack goes along way… but a beating goes too far."

"Lastly, you will act cordial around Harry. I don't know your story with him and frankly I don't care. He is a child. You will care for him. I don't expect sudden hugs or kisses, but you will certainly be kind and respect him. Address him by his name for one.

"Also, you will not stop Harry and I from talking. As long as he wants me around I will stay. Do not even think to try and interfere with that.

"These are my requests," Benjamin said. "For now." He abruptly let go out the whale, snickering as he fell to the ground, greedily sucking in air and rubbing at his irritated neck. "Understand?"

"Yes," the giraffe said.

"Good, glad we had this chat!" Benjamin was back to all smiles. "I'll leave you to your breakfast." He patted the whale on his scruffy blond head, loving the new terrified gleam in his eye, the way he practically rolled away to avoid him.

He made his way out of the small kitchen. He went to Harry in the living room where the small boy curled up on the couch, very interested in whatever silly cartoon was acted out on the small screen. His empty plate was on the floor. His cousin was in a recliner chair far from Harry; he eep'd when he saw Benjamin.

"Harry!" Benjamin plopped down next to him.

Harry gave him a smile still significantly dimmer than yesterday's. "Hi."

"Don't look so down in the dumps, Harry. I talked to your Aunt and Uncle."

Harry's smile completely dropped. Fear still clung to him.

"No, no, it wasn't like that. We just had to iron out a few problems, you know, talk about normal adult things. You aren't in any sort of trouble."

"Really?" Harry asked in a tiny voice.

"Really really. In fact, they said we can play together as much as we want. How does that sound?"

Harry's smile was his answer.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks to everyone for taking an interest in my latest project. Don't expect fast updates like this. My track record is really bad when it comes to keeping up with stories. Ha. This is unbeta'd and I apologize for any and all mistakes. _Eventual slash._ **

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**Milky Way**

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He was flummoxed. Yes, flummoxed was the correct word to use. As students and parents stepped out from their homes, heading to the bus stop at the corner of Magnolia Crescent clad in uniforms of red and grey, Benjamin was feeling flummoxed as he eyed the oncoming crowd of three.

The giraffe held the pig's hand, choking back tears and garbled cries of 'My Dudders is growing up so fast!'. Every child was dressed to their nines with pressed grey pants and skirts, hair pulled and combed, and black shoes shiny. Understandably so, today was the first day of school. Except Harry was not… that was putting it lightly.

Polite parents tried not to stare too much, the children were a little less subtle with open mouths and their pointed fingers. Benjamin spared a glance to the seemingly nonchalant giraffe. He wondered what Harry had done to make a woman like Petunia, so set on the image of normalcy, okay with his less-than-stellar outfit. He was suddenly very glad that he had the forethought to bring a comb before he left the house.

The giraffe and piglet converged with the rest of the chattering horde. Harry stopped where Benjamin stood. He couldn't help but give the boy a bright smile as he dropped to his knees fixing what should've been fixed.

"Harry," Benjamin greeted. "What happened?"

Harry returned his smile tenfold. "I got up and washed up and brushed my teeth extra clean like you said I should do every morning."

"Mhm," Benjamin tugged the backwards Barnsbury sweater off, smiling fondly at the buttoned down shirt, all of it was off by one. He glanced at Harry's pants, at least he gotten the belt through all the correct loops.

"Aunt Tunia laid out my clothes, so, I put on my clothes all by myself. Aunt Tunia helped Dudley, she said I did good on my own and she even smiled!" Harry said brightly.

Benjamin clicked his tongue. He threaded the correct button through the last hole, straightening Harry's shirt and collar afterwards. He wanted to curse the giraffe but for Harry's sake he continued to smile, he'd have to another talk with her today. "She was right, munchkin! You did a fantastic job."

He tucked in Harry's shirt and put his sweater back on, the correct way this time. Benjamin was thankful that Harry remained still as he went over him with deft hands. He zipped up backpack, checked his lunch, and made sure he had all his school supplies, which he did. Harry's shoes were saved for last, he was grateful that they weren't mucked up or creased, only untied.

"Harry, do you know how to tie your laces?"

Harry shook his head: no.

"I'm going to show you. When you get back home today we'll practice. Sound good?"

"Yes!" Harry exclaimed.

"Alright." He hiked Harry's right foot up to rest on his thigh, picking up the two black laces. "First thing, you want to make sure that the laces are pulled extra tight–," he demonstrated with Harry's rapt attention, "and then, you want to make these two laces cross, with one going underneath the other. You got this so far?

Harry jerkily nodded. He stared at his foot and Benjamin's hands, brow furrowed.

"You want to make two Bugs' Bunny ears, cross them again, and there should be a hole where one ear goes in, you pull them tight and voila!"

Benjamin double-tied the first shoe and worked on the other.

"Cool!" Harry said when he was done. He stared at his shoes in absolute awe. "Thank you, Benjamin."

"No problem." He pulled out the slim black comb next. For a second, he studied the thin piece of plastic — could it tame Harry's raven nest? He looked at Harry's unruly black hair, then back to the comb, he was betting on Harry's hair. He wouldn't chance it today; he'd have to buy a brush or something before he tried to stick a comb through those locks.

He slid back up and patted Harry's head, leading him toward the other children already forming a line for the bus.

"So, are you excited?" Benjamin asked.

Harry hesitated. "Kinda. My tummy feels weird like I sick."

Benjamin laughed. "Those are nerves, you'll feel better once you settle in. I promise."

Harry fidgeted with his red sweater, nodding back. He scuffed his shoe against the sidewalk. Oddly quiet. "Benjamin," he said, low.

"Yes Harry," he looked down at his little charge.

"Do you think they'll like me and want to play with me?" Harry asked in a rush. He blushed, glancing away.

"Harry? Look at me."

Harry looked. Benjamin smelled the tears. "Of course they'll like you, short stuff! You'll make lots of new friends and forget about little old me!" he laughed.

Harry sniffed. "But Dudley says—"

"I'm going to stop you right there; you can't trust everything your piggie cousin says. He's probably just jealous of all the friends you're sure to make and how the teacher will adore you."

"Really?"

"Really," he ruffled Harry's head. "Now turn that frown upside down."

Harry was back to his happy state in the nick of time. The yellow school bus came chugging down the road. Kids were pushed into line –first years first– the newer parents were teary-eyed as they prepared to wave their kids off. One such parent being the giraffe; she wailed as she pressed smattering kisses to the pig's fat head and cheeks.

Harry stayed back. He waited until the bus stopped and the door swung open. The kids clambered aboard, the youngest in the front and older ones all crowding in the back. Harry was the last one. He took a couple of steps forward, hesitated, then abruptly ran back. He threw his arms around Benjamin's waist, squeezed extra tight before letting go and hopping on the bus to join his schoolmates.

Again with the odd flummoxed feeling that arose within him. Harry was finicky about physical touching. He never initiated it and if he could help it shied away from the simplest of touches. It took months before Harry was comfortable with a casual touch to his head or shoulders. This was a huge step in the right direction. Harry was the last one aboard as soon as he had settled the bus doors squeakily pressed closed and the bus was off.

Feeling happier, he smiled as he jogged to catch up to the retreating giraffe. "Petunia!" he exclaimed. She paused on the cracked sidewalk, folding her arms. Her blue eyes darted toward the retreating backs of parents. Silly giraffe, they couldn't help her.

"You think you're cute. A word of advice; don't allow Harry outside like that again. He will be dressed appropriately for all future occasions. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes," the giraffe said through gritted teeth.

"Good. I'll see you at 3:15," he waved to her, heading back to his house. Now, what was there to do with Harry gone?

He smiled darkly when he got the door and smelled blood in the air. Two miles east. Well, he hadn't hunted in awhile.

**...**

At 3:15 exactly Benjamin was at the bus stop. The parents had congregated together in a mutated circle, eagerly talking amongst one another. Benjamin awkwardly stood off to the side. It wasn't like he didn't like people — quite the opposite, it was just the people of Little Whinging were boring people who led mundane lives. He didn't care for their town gossip.

The bus rolled up at 3:20. The children eagerly spilling out and rushing into awaiting arms. Harry was the second to last one out. He stood on the last step of the bus' steps scanning the crowd until he spotted Benjamin. Benjamin could see the smile that bloomed immediately.

Harry ripped forward. He wrapped his arms around Benjamin's waist. This time he stayed long enough for Benjamin to give him a proper squeeze back, soaking in the boy's warmth.

"Harry," he laughed. "I take it you had a good day."

Harry nodded excitedly. He was buzzing with energy, waiting for the opportunity to let it all out. Benjamin studied the parental queues around him. He coaxed Harry's backpack off his shoulders and slipped it on; he held his palm out to Harry. Harry took it eagerly.

"Petunia," he called the startled giraffe. "I'll have Harry back before sundown." She pursed his lips, nodding.

His attention back on Harry he figured he'd been torturing him long enough. "Are you going to tell me about your day?" he raised an eyebrow.

"It was _so_ _awesome_!" Harry declared, he pushed up his glasses. "I have the coolest teacher ever! Not as cool as you though, Benjamin; nobody is as cool as you! Her name is Ms. Lucky and she has black and blond hair and she is super nice and pretty. She let me play with all the toys and she didn't yell at me once!

"She answered all the questions and took us around the school, it's so big inside! So many rooms, they're super cool too but our classroom is the bestest. Ms. Lucky says at the end of year it will be filled with our artwork and the stuffs we're going to learn! Like why the sky is blue!" Harry said. "Do you know why the sky is blue?"

"I can't say I do, munchkin," Benjamin admitted.

Harry grinned. "I'll tell you when I learn!

"Oh, Oh, Oh! And she told us lots of things about ourselveses. Like, I, 90 on the height scale! I have a birthday like Dudley! It's in July, the last day of July! It means I younger than Dudley but still smarter," Harry nodded. Benjamin laughed. "And I have three names!" Harry held up the hand, showing Benjamin three little fingers. "I, Harry James Potter.

"Ms. Lucky said it's a very strong and catchy name. Perfect for me!" Harry puffed out his chest with pride. "And I haven't even told you the best part," Harry gasped. "Guess!"

Benjamin shrugged. Harry's happiness was infectious. "No naptime?"

"Wrong!" Harry giggled. "I have my very own cubby."

"No way," Benjamin said, acting as if Harry told him the most astonishing news.

"Way." Harry nodded, utterly serious. "I have to keep it clean for inspections and if I pass Ms. Lucky will give me stickers and at the end of the month the person with the most stickers will be line leader."

"Amazing!"

"I know; I will be line leader cuz I clean the bestest!" Harry said, certain.

They arrived at #5. Benjamin unlocked the door and Harry darted in. He was mindful of Benjamin's rules like he had to take his shoes off once he stepped in the house. Benjamin sat Harry's backpack on the brown couch in the living room, shooing Harry to the kitchen/dining room area.

He pulled out Harry's blue Power Ranger folder thick with papers, sliding it under his arm. He headed to the kitchen where Harry skillfully set himself on one of the stools at the counter, swinging his legs. He patiently waited for Benjamin to make his snack. His snack being the crispy chicken nuggets and chips that sat on the stovetop.

A quick minute later, a hot plate was placed down in front of Harry along with a glass of apple juice. "Thank you!" Harry chirped, picking up a chip.

Benjamin nodded eyeing him for a brief second. He placed the folder on the countertop going through the many miscellaneous welcome sheets and supplies lists (he'd leave that to the giraffe). The only thing he was interested in was the multiple contact blanks that needed to be filled. He didn't trust the Dursleys enough for them to be there in case of emergency or a parent-teacher conference.

Sheets later, Benjamin was at the folder's end. A bright yellow piece of paper laid stark against the white of the folder. Unlike the other pieces of paper this one was heavily creased and marked. Barnsbury Clubs, it read.

Benjamin pulled it out noting which clubs were crossed out: tennis, lacrosse, American Football, rounders, archery… he went down the list until he got to faded word of football. Football looked like it had been slashed through multiple times, erased, slashed again and erased once more.

"Harry, do you want to join a club?" Benjamin asked. He held up the paper. Harry swallowed the chicken nugget he'd been nibbling on.

"Yes!" Harry reddened, backtracking. "I mean no!"

"Yes or No?"

"Um no?"

"Harry, what have I told you about lying?"

Harry fidgeted on the wooden stool. "Not to," he mumbled.

"Right. So, I'm going to ask you again; do you want to join a club?"

"Yes," Harry said, much less enthusiastic than a child should be when asked. He picked at his food. "I wanna play footie but…"

"But what?" Benjamin pushed softly.

"Aunt Tunia will say no and _I knows Uncle Vernon will say no _before I even say anything,"he shrugged helplessly.

Benjamin blew out. He let his mind wander down the paths of What-Ifs. What if Amun hadn't said the things he said and if he hadn't moved to this dreadfully boring place? Would Harry be the boy in the cupboard forced to repress his urges like this? The thought alone was a disturbing one. He'd see to it that all the damage the Dursleys inflicted on Harry would be undone.

"Munchkin, you can't assume things. You wanna know why?"

"Why?"

"You make an ass out of you and me," he chuckled. Harry giggled. "But in all seriousness don't be so quick to say no to what you want. I bet your Aunt and Uncle will gladly allow you to be on the footie team, that is if you really want too."

"I really want too!" Harry said with more gusto.

"Awesome! Why don't you finish your snack and we can play some games outside when you're done."

Harry cheered. He hurried to do as told while Benjamin watched him. Harry failed to notice the dark look brewing on Benjamin's face.

It looked like he'd have to do more requesting.

* * *

**I am American. So, I apologize for improper use of the any language or the U.K. school system. I tried to make it as correct as possible. ****Harry didn't do Reception (I guess that's like the equal to the US' Pre-K, which is optional like kindergarten— _I think_ if I know my own country's school system!) , he's in Year 1 and probably the youngest of his class because he turned five in July and the school year starts in early Sept.**

******and Barnsbury is an actual school in Surrey~! **


	3. Chapter 3

**By the Unnamed God, I updated. It's like way, way early in the morning and I did a rough edit. I apologize for any and all mistakes found in this chapter, I'm sure there will be many. I hope it doesn't hinder any reading that much. Minor time-skip. I still haven't gotten to why Benjamin left Amun and his coven yet. Nor have I described Benjamin in detail. Dammit. For anyone who wonders what in the hell Benjamin looks like look up Rami Malek, or the guy that plays the Pharaoh in Night at the Museum. Thanks to all the read, favorite and follow, and review.**

**the snake in this is an albino reticulated python…**

* * *

**Milky Way**

* * *

"Benjamin, you came!" went the excited yelp. "You actually came!" Harry was hopping and waving from the front door. He calmed when Benjamin stepped on the porch of #4.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, munchkin," he returned, amused. Like always, he couldn't help the smile that curved his lips. He stepped closer to Harry, the excited birthday boy was all spick-and-span in blue jeans and a nice-button down. A silly colored cone hat sat on his head.

"Are all those for me?" Harry asked softly. He stared at the brightly colored packages balanced in his arms like they held the secrets to the universe.

"Who else would they be for?"

Harry broke out into an even bigger grin.

"Do you know where I put these?"

"Uhuh!" Harry nodded. He pointed down the narrow hallway. "Aunt Tunia says put them on the kitchen table, and then go outside for refreschaments."

"_Refreshments_, munchkin, and you got it." He headed into the house. "I'll see you in bit."

"Bye." Harry went back to waving, watching him go.

His experience in the house was significantly different than it was two years ago. For one, it didn't look like only a family of three resided in the house. There were pictures of Harry –though sparse and much smaller than the other photos– on the walls. The toys that littered the floor of the living room on his left smelled distinctly like Harry and the pig-child, even the cupboard felt like normal, the heinous miasma previously encasing it was almost nonexistent.

Inside the kitchen he carefully set his gifts down with the growing pile of others. Harry was a popular kid with a lot of generous friends. Good for him, he'd came into his own since starting school and joining the the footie team.

Benjamin made his way to the backyard. The giraffe was outside; she expertly weaved in and out of the adult crowd with plates of fancy finger sandwiches, drinks, and tasteful jokes. The few trees and bushes planted in the backyard were laden with cheap party streamers and tiny glimmering lights. If Benjamin looked behind him he'd see a sign with 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY!' hung onto the rafters above.

The children were divided off. A third of them were fascinated with a pimply teenager doing cheap magic tricks, another third of them yelling their demands at a haggard balloon specialist – making them all kinds of hats, swords, and animals; the last third played a group of tag and babbled excitedly amongst one another. The party setup was nice — nowhere near the scale she had set up for her precious Duddykins (the neighborhood was still reeling over the petting zoo), but it was a commendable effort.

He gravitated toward the gaggle of adults crowded to the right side of the yard. He was glad the giraffe had sense enough to invite Harry's football team. He'd been to most of the practices and matches and was on the first-name basis with the moms and older teenagers. They were much more engaging than the mundanes of the Little Whinging.

"Benjamin! There you are!" Ruby, a short blonde roped him into the group by the arm. "As I was telling Jessica— she just backed up— without even looking might I add…!"

See? No conversations about their kids or housework duties. No drivel about their humdrum 9 to 5 desk jobs. Actual conversation. He jumped in with the others, giving sympathetic nods and making snide comments here and there.

Benjamin counted fifteen more children before the giraffe was gone. She came back seconds later with Harry behind her. The giraffe picked up her silver tray. She didn't any waste time in resuming her previous duties. She took no notice of Harry who stood on the patio, taking in the view.

Whoa, Harry mouthed. He pushed up his glasses –still too big for his tiny face– then, he ran forward, eagerly joining his party guests.

It was easy for Benjamin to shift into a more comfortable position, for him to focus on the bubble of people around him. Harry was within his sights; safe and carefree. He was able to relax.

The giraffe allowed the kiddies to play around for a good hour and half before she announced, "Cake!" Cake was a magical word. The kids dropped their toys to the ground, their games were already halfway forgotten as they raced to the long, wooden bench overlaid with a balloon-themed table sheet. It was a tight squeeze but the children made it work, peacefully too. Benjamin was reasonably surprised as were the other parents; kids were bloodthirsty little buggers in situations involving seats.

Harry sat in the middle. His birthday hat still firmly on his head. His green eyes followed the giraffe as she sat the huge, cookie cake shaped and colored into a football (like last year) in front of him. Neon Green icing was used to write 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HARRY!" in flowing script. Seven striped flickering candles rimmed the outside.

Indira, one of the only two girls on Harry's football team, lead in the yowls of dying cats— ahem– singing, "Happy Birthday!"

Benjamin stood in the background among the other parents. There he heard the distinctive sound of Harry inhaling, saw him hold his breath, his cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk's, and the dramatic exhale. The flames were out in a simultaneous poof of wispy black smoke.

"CAKE!" was the rippling exclamation among the children as they impatiently held out their plastic plates for their slice. Harry, ever-the-helper, passed out plastic forks to his guests and waited until everybody had their piece before he held out his own plate for his.

He heard Harry's quiet mutter of, "Thank you." Then came the thundering shout of, "HEY! THOSE ARE HARRY'S PRESENTS!"

Chattering ceased. All eyes followed the scream to the perpetrator… s.

The pig-child and his rat-faced friend were unwisely seated in the middle of the backyard ripping open Harry's gifts. How? When? Benjamin wanted to know, but he'd save the questions for later. He flinched with each sharp _rrriiip _sound and winced with every gleeful laugh and derisive snort let out as they tore at the gifts. They, the adults and children, gawked on in abject horror at the piggy and rat; not one word was said to stop them.

The pig-child and rat adopted a cruel method; the gifts they liked and felt were too good for Harry were immediately broken; the normal gifts: the clothes, the handmade cards, and toys that couldn't be broken easily, which weren't many, were thrown into a careless heap.

Benjamin's gaze slid to Harry. His munchkin was on the bench. Eyes wide. Hat askew. Green icing doted the corners of his lips. Benjamin belatedly realized he was tense. He was waiting for the moment he'd see Harry's lips wobble and for the scent of salty tears, only they never came.

Harry's fists clenched, his nostrils flared, and his mouth set in a harsh line. His big eyes normally alit in joy or awe were thinned into narrowed, inscrutable slits as he focused on his party crashers. Benjamin had never seen his munchkin like this, anger was a new facet.

Would he be witness to Harry's first fight— "MUM! MUM! MUMMY! HELP ME!"

Benjamin turned to the sound of the piggy squealing for his sow. What a sight to behold! He bared witness to many, many extraordinary events over the decades, but he'd never seen anything like this before.

Fluorescent bows shot through the air like mini rockets hitting the running rat-child. The piggy on the other hand wasn't so lucky. Snakes of torn ribbon slithered through the crab grass, the animated pieces of cloth began to slink up the piggy's fat rolls and twine and twist into thick knots onto the struggling child.

Afterwards, the tattered pieces of wrapping paper… in all his one hundred and ninety-six years, Benjamin hadn't the words. He was as shell-shocked as the others around him, he couldn't find the gumption to move an inch, let alone make the effort to end the horror show in front of him.

The wrapping paper was the final touch. It flew onto the piggy and rat, firmly latching itself and it wrapped. Adeptly. Two lone pink frilled bows with white tags hopped onto the incapacitated boys, the small scrawl of To: Harry Potter was visible.

There was the pause that seemed to silence to world. Could it be over… Then, the twin shrieks: "DUDLEY! PIERS!"

"Two extra gifts for me," Benjamin heard Harry mumble. He looked to Harry. He didn't know what he expected, it certainly wasn't Harry looking like the cat that had just eaten the canary.

What in the seven layers? Did Harry have something to do with this, and if he did, how? He studied Harry for a few more seconds hoping that somehow more information would reveal itself. Expectedly, none came forth.

He sighed. He brushed back a few strands of black hair. What was he thinking? He was being suspicious of a little boy that had just turned seven-years-old, the same little boy that hadn't moved an inch from his spot since the weird shindig started. The same boy that barely reached his hip! There was no way Harry was connected, at least that's what his mind told him. Why was his gut telling another story?

**/**

Around 8:15, every morning, the neighborhood was roused by one Petunia Dursley's cries of utter terror. When he asked Harry about the incidents, he grinned sunnily, replying along the lines of: "I help Aunt Tunia with the breakfast. I make the plates and forks and other stuff float over to Dudley, Uncle Vernon, her, and me and I only messed up once! Ooh, I learned how to pour everyone's juice today without spilling too~!"

Benjamin chalked that up to a classic childhood case of imagination. No child could make things float. Then again, no child should be able to manipulate fire like he had done in his own childhood. Amun did say prevalent abilities in rare, gifted individuals tended to present themselves at this age. Though playing the devil's advocate, Harry hadn't made anything float or had done anything unusual in his presence.

He settled on an overactive imagination and the giraffe being overly dramatic. Sound reasoning on his part.

_Except._

The giraffe never stopped screaming and the whale was beginning to roar. Around the clock. 24/7. Why?

As August waned a familiar patten ensued. The animals constantly had their panties in a twist. Raised voices. Harry was brought or sent over to his house, he interrogated Harry who was all brilliant smiles, armed with childish replies of: "I made the TV work again!" ; "I touched it (it usually being an electronic device) and it went all static-y!/broke!" ; "I made the toys move and build by themselves!" ; "I turned Dudley's hair pink and frizzy like a Troll doll!"

How was he supposed to respond to that besides a pat on the head and a, "Of course you did." It wasn't until Harry was on his doorstep, a haggard giraffe at his side, did he believe in Harry's capabilities.

"Dudley has an appointment today. Keep him!" she hissed at him as she pushed Harry forward. She didn't even wait for his response, she went click-clacking away from his house in her ridiculous key-lime green heels, muttering, "Devil child is ruining my Duddykins."

Amusing woman the giraffe was.

"So, munchkin, wha'dya want to do today?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"Play outside," Harry said.

"Easy enough. Hang on for a minute, I'll be right back. I'm just going to get the ball."

Harry nodded his understanding, his black hair flopping with every movement.

Benjamin decided against using his vampiric speed to grab the ball, he was becoming more human each day. He jogged upstairs and grabbed the black and white ball. He was back downstairs in under a minute.

Snake was his first thought.

When—Where—_How_ was Harry holding a snake? Normally, that wouldn't be a cause to freak. England's native snakes were mostly harmless. However, it wasn't a garden snake or harmless adder Harry was holding. Nope, he couldn't be that lucky. His seven-year-old munchkin was sitting on his porch weighed down by a humongous, yellow and white, python–boa–thing, corded tightly around him as if he were some tree branch or dinner. Benjamin stood there, jaw agape.

Harry was a different story. A regular human response would be an elevated heartbeat, violent struggling, cries for help— something to get out the snake's wrangling grasp. Not Harry, no siree. Harry, his small, fragile Harry, was as cool as a cucumber. He lovingly stroked the snake's diamond-shaped scales like it was some treasured pet, hissing and giggling at it. Harry did a spot-on impression of snake. The snake flicked out its tongue hissing back.

Maybe not an impression… normal humans didn't speak snake, right?

"Harry?" he called his attention, somewhat cautious.

"Hi Benjamin!" Harry wiggled a hand out of mounds of coils around him, waving. "This is Stiles!" he pointed to the snake. Said snake turned orange-red eyes on him. "He escaped from his evil owner!" The snake flicked out its forked tongue. It—He turned to Harry, hissing loudly. Harry scrunched his button nose. "He says you smell like a predator and you feel dead. He says it's weird."

If only his heart hadn't already stopped beating… that damn snake.

He forced out an awkward laugh. "He's right, that is weird maybe his snakey senses are off?"

"Maybe… hey, you got the ball!" he grinned. Harry jabbered to Stiles the Snake in apparent snake speak. He was wildly gesturing and pointing between Benjamin and ball. He had a bad feeling about this. "Stiles wants to play!" Harry announced in english.

"Harry, I don't thi—"

"Pretty please Benjamin, with red cherries and lots of sprinkles on top," Harry pleaded, giving him the baby seal eyes, his hands clasping together. It was a deadly combo. He could practically feel his resistance to this terrible idea erode away with every second he held Harry's pleading gaze.

"Harry," cue faux smile and resigned shift of the shoulders. "Let's show Stiles how to play some football."

Harry cheered. He didn't know why he tried sometimes. What Harry wanted he always did his best to procure.

In the scheme of events, Benjamin wished everything was as easy as snake football.

**/ /**

School started in early September. Harry was excited for his upcoming school year as a Year 3. He stood beside Benjamin at the bus stop on his first day of school, bouncing on the balls of his feet and prattling on about the friends he hadn't seen in weeks and the teachers he hoped he'd get. Benjamin nodded along, periodically interjecting with sage advice for Harry.

There was that pleased mien that settled over him when he heard the familiar yellow school bus come chugging up to their stop. The squeak and pah of the doors opening and the kids rushing in. In a moment, Harry gave him a quick hug and he was rushing to join the other kids. He was no longer the last on the bus.

Benjamin eyed Harry as he settled onto the bus and waved at him until he found his seat beside a redheaded boy. A few moments later, Harry was gone. Benjamin couldn't be happier, school was an environment where Harry thrived. Maybe, if he dared to hope, that would be where his talents would go back to being dormant.

It succeeded for a good three months until Harry came home with his first yellow note: somehow Harry had gotten ahold of supplies that were on the top shelf and lied about how he'd gotten them. Harry's reply to that was they came too him. He only beckoned them.

A month later another note had followed. Harry was turning his classmates' hair whatever color they desired with secret dye he smuggled, and for shits and giggles he made his teacher's hair a sky blue without her knowing. Parents were complaining because the dye refused to come out and Harry insisted he didn't use any dye. He made it happen on his own, he only had to wish hard enough and it came true.

Two weeks later, Benjamin witnessed Harry on the football field. As usual he moved like a sylph, evading all the other team with the checkered ball at his toes at all times. He paused to make a shot into the goal and it didn't go in— or, there was no possible way the shot could have made it, but before his eyes, in an amazing amount of one-in-a-million coincidences, the breezes blew a little hard, the ball rolled back, bounced once, twice, hitting the goal post at just the right angle and it was in!

The giraffe and whale were tight-lipped (aside from the occasional yells) of Harry's newfound gifts. All the notes Harry brought home were swiftly signed and sent back. All suggested parent-teacher conferences were ignored. They refused to acknowledge the growing problem, still firmly entrenched in lalaland. The notes were getting longer, more anxious, more insistent — yet they chose to do nothing. Maybe Benjamin exaggerated, one thing had changed with the Dursleys; their treatment of Harry. Since his requests the Dursley's and their relationship with Harry had been on positive side, but since Harry's abilities had manifested there was a dramatic increase in the number of burning glares and poisoned-filled whispers directed at Harry when they thought Benjamin couldn't see or hear.

He sensed the Dursley's were the beginning, like the humid air and dark clouds before a huge storm. It was a matter of time before Harry's classmates started to shun him. Before the teachers became scared. Before Harry's little world became an isolated bubble with only himself. Humans did not like what they couldn't understand or justify. They went out of their way to explain the un-explainable and drag any and everything out of the welcoming dark and into the harsh, unforgiving light.

It all came to a head with a single phone call from the school. "The fire department is on its way. Harry is on the roof."

He didn't even pause, he dropped the phone, rushing out the door. He ran, pushing the extent of his vampiric speed until his surroundings were a blur of colors and smells. He arrived at Barnsbury within five minutes; the school was already gated off by bobby cars and long yellow tapes and white wooden barricades. The bobbies were also pushing back the gathering crowd of curious onlookers and news crew. The fire squad there, already easing up a white ladder against the tall building.

Benjamin's eyes darted up to the top of the school. He tried to look passed the spiraling metal chimneys and air vents.

A flip switched on inside him. It was like he had tunnel vision, none of these pathetic humans mattered. It was just Harry. He couldn't see him, but he could certainly feel him. Harry was up there sending off wave after wave of anxiety and misery, it was enough to completely engulf him. Why weren't they going faster? Did they not hear the wracking sobs above, the muffled pleas of, "I want to get down! Please, Please, Please! I want to get down! I'm stuck, help me, help!"

The humans were being infuriatingly slow, they were like narcoleptic zombies with metal balls and chains at their ankles. He could scale the school within in seconds and get Harry down from there. Harry needed him! His body was moving on its own, stalking toward the single most important — he ducked under the ducktape.

Slow. Slow. Slow. They were too damn slow, an nth of second wasted felt like an eternity. Harry was in distress. Calling out to him, pleading for—

"Sir," someone said, pushing against his chest. He kept moving. Eyes on the brick building. The white ladder. The siren's song ensnaring above, compelling him. "Bac… be… th… ape. We're…doi… eve… sir!"

It was like he was being repeatedly ducked in water. There was overhead where his rationale laid, where reality was in full swing. There was down here in the water, where reality was washed away and words descended above came to him in garbled messes; not that he cared a lick because he was being pulled deeper, deeper into a watery abyss closer, closer to something—someone that laid at the bottom reaching for him—

"Petunia Dursley? Thank God!"

He halted. His head twisting to the right to see Petunia Dursley behind the yellow tape. Her red lips pulled tight. Her crow's feet more prominent as she squinted at the harried women in front of her, gesticulating and sweating buckets.

"We don't know how Mr. Potter got up there, Mr. Peters, the geography teacher outside for recess duty, reported a loud noise like a car backfiring and then the students were saying Mr. Potter disappeared onto the roof! We're doing everything we can! A student's safety is our number one priority and we've never had a student on the roof before. Rest assured whoever's responsible will be severely punished."

The giraffe wasn't listening. Benjamin doubted she cared.

"– if the news crew happens to talk to you..."

The giraffe licked his lips. "I want my nephew," she said crisply.

"Of course! He should be down any minute, I'm sorry to ask for your patience. I'm sure this must be a terrifying experience for you," she flushed. "As it is for us too! We're using all resources for an expedient rescue."

What a nervous woman.

A sharp crackling sound stemmed from the walkie-talkie on the woman's hip. "We've got him. Repeat. We've got him. No injuries sustained."

The woman jumped in obvious surprise. She picked up the walkie. "Confirmed!" she transmitted. She grinned widely at the giraffe. "We've got him, he's safe and sound."

"Wonderful," the giraffe said dryly.

The woman in front of her continued to talk, more relaxed. Benjamin took that as his cue to move. He stepped back from the bobby with a small grin. "Sorry for the trouble," he apologized. He went back under the tape heading to the giraffe's position.

"Hello," he greeted.

The giraffe choked. She flinched when she faced him, eyeing him like she expected him to physically attack. "What are you doing here?" she asked, accusatory.

"Why I'm listed in the emergency contacts. Obviously, they called me when they failed to contact you."

The giraffe clutched her purse, glaring at him. "I was out buying groceries. I came as soon as possible."

Lies. "Reall—?"

"Here you go," said the firefighter gently. Petunia Dursley's presence died right then. Harry was in front of him. He was clutching onto the firefighter's hand, ghostly pale, eyes rimmed cherry red; shaken.

"Harry, I'm relieved to see you're alright," the giraffe said, her voice coated in sickly sweet honey. She held out a gloved hand.

Harry took a wobbly step toward her.

"Harry," he attempted. Green eyes landed on him. There was no contest. Harry abruptly let go on the firefighter's hand, sprinting to him. Benjamin scooped him up, rocking and shushing him as his crying began anew. "If we have no more business here, Petunia, let's go."

She followed.

**/ / / **

They sat in the living room of number four. He had initally wanted Harry to find comfort in a familiar setting like his bedroom upstairs surrounded by his favorite playthings and whatnot, but Harry refused to let him go, crying that he'd get that funny feeling and disappear again to some, bigger, higher unreachable place.

So, there he sat on the beige couch with Harry on his lap. The giraffe was sitting to the right of him in a plush sofa. A cup of Earl Grey and plate of biscuits held tight in her hand. She sipped while Benjamin sat there, running deft fingers through Harry's tangled locks humming some nameless tune until Harry succumbed to sleep.

He studied Harry. His tension gone from his small body, his breathing even, the dried tear tracks, and the light snores emitting from him every seventy-seven seconds. Hopefully, his dreams would be filled with good things.

His fingers never ceased, his attentions shifted to the giraffe whom was pointedly staring at the faux Persian carpet.

"What is he?" he asked bluntly.

"Excuse me," she balked.

"Do not pretend to be hard of hearing, Petunia. I'll ask once more: what is he?"

"I–I don't know wh—"

He was towering over her in a blink of an eye, his hands stretched to the sofa's arms. His incisors were out and lengthened, coated in glistening venom. He growled lowly, a subtle warning. "I will rip out your throat and leave you to drown in your own blood." She whimpered. "Do not test me. **What. Is. He?" **he growled again.

She gulped hard, trying and failing to control her shaking. "A wizard."


	4. Chapter 4

Long story short for my senior year (or A-levels/Year 13 in other places) I decided to challenge myself with five fucking AP (college courses) and oh my god, I'm like treading water. I literally only do homework and sleep. I can't do anything else but that and now I have to start worrying about applying to fucking colleges and universities and that's a headache in itself. It's just a lot. A lot. But I'm slowly chipping away at this story little by little, I so apologize for the long wait.

In this chapter Benjamin has been a very, very bad boy. I hope you guys in enjoy this chapter, I apologize for any mistakes that hinder any reading ability. I promise all will be resolved in the next one. Thanks as always for those that review, fav, and alert.

* * *

**Milky Way**

* * *

He forgot how to breathe.

_These exquisite smells surrounding him — cocooning him in the freshest of scents. He races down the clayed building tops. Running and jumping, laughing because this was __**his**__ — his night as God in the old world riddled new.  
_  
He slackened.

_He is like a child let into a sweets shop with his pockets heavy with money. There are hundreds of treats to choose from. All beckoning him with their saccharine smells. He runs as he observes the merchandise, giddy with the unlimited choices laid before him.  
_  
Disbelief invaded.

_Yet he is the pickiest of eaters. There is no limit to the amount of treats he is allowed, but he wants his first taste to be the best. The absolute best to commemorate his first night out. So he speeds onward, peeking down, waiting until his nose picks out the greatest prize.  
_  
His head whipped to the direction of the couch, his eyes pinned longer than necessary.

_It hits him. It hits him hard like a herd of elephants. He jerks in place, hastily braking. He's a flurry of spins, ridiculous and ecstatic, until he concedes to a point on a low building. West, his nose points. He looks onto the west for a moment. His eyes as sharp as a hawk's, he picks up nothing under the blanket of dark besides grainy sand and lesser food traipsing about. He trusts his senses. He jumps and sets off.  
_  
A growl was building. His stomach twisted.

_Too fast for human eyes is his set pace. He can't move fast enough. In an nth of second, he is there. In front of his sweets. He bounces on his heels and lets his grin spread as he stands there; there are three of them. They are dressed in fine dark colored robes, a rainbow coalition of men on the outside, but their blood all sing to him the same. All of them carry that odd intangible zest of something otherworldly._

His environment began to fade, he focused on the couch, zoned in on the prey.

_"Where the hell did you come from?" the dark-skinned one shouts._

_"Cairo," he says. It's the truth, the place is where he lived, he died, and was reborn._

_"Get out of here!" the same man shouts again. He can see the clear spittle flying from his mouth speckled with food particles. He is angry at being interrupted. Interrupted from what, he cannot tell, but the man points a long, thin stick at him._

_"No," he whispers into the man's ear, behind him. The man lets out a gasp of surprise —that's all he gets— in one move he lurches forward, pulling back the neck of the robe and dives in. Straight to the artery. Gods, is it divine!_

He put one foot in front of the other.

_Warm liquid slips down his throat. His treat continues to struggle; "No!" he'd reprimand if his mouth wasn't busy. Instead, his fangs dig deeper into the treat's neck, forcing him in stay in place._

_"Stop!" one of his other treats regain their voice. "Stop or we will—!"_

_"Boreas!" the last one shouts. He's so focused on his tasty meal he never sees what causes it! It that hauls him back with the force of a gelid, gale wind, drawing him from his meal and slamming him against the brick wall. He crumples and slides down in chunks, stunned. The humans are all huddled together in front of him, one of them jabs another stick at his face, the other is helping his current meal whom clutches his bloodied neck. The helper switches between squinted glares and hushed murmurs of comfort._

_It's laughable. He laughs and laughs, like the mad hatter drunk on sugared tea. Was this what Amun saw when viewing him through godly eyes? How utterly interesting humans are! So weak! So fragile, they are wrought with a thousand and one flaws! But always full of surprises!_

_"How dare you laugh?! Monster! I will destroy you!"_

_He falls deeper into hysterics. Mere mortals destroying Gods! The very idea!_

_"Incendio!"_

He was in front of the prey; prey was dangerous. He knelt down and smelled that same honeyed smell that ensnared him a few, short years ago. He leaned in, his incisors drawing out…

_A bright, orange-red flame shots at him— he titters. This is how they intend to destroy him? With his born element! He raises a single hand to catch this flame, make it into his own—_

Sleepy green eyes framed by hundreds of tiny black eyelashes blink open. Prey sat up, yawning. "Ben… jah… men?"

_He's never felt a flame so hot, a flame that burns! __**It burns, it burns, it burns—**_

Harry. He supplied at the mention of his name. Benjamin felt as if he had been slapped. He was going—just like— Harry would be—His fangs have never retracted so fast back into their place, they even let out their own small click. Harry rubbed his eyes, staring at him… Benjamin couldn't! He couldn't stay here.

He threw a glance at the cowardly giraffe pressed against the sofa felt. "Take care of him," he said.

He stood up.

Harry reached out a hand. "Benjamin, you can't go, what if—!"

He moved with his supernatural speed out of Harry's grasp and he didn't think to pause until he was back in his own house.

He mechanically sat down on his sofa and stared blankly at the TV. His VCR blinked red.

_He can't find the strength to move from the wall. Escape from the flame that eats away his skin and bones, all he can do is scream to the high heavens and hope for the pain to end soon. He thinks that he'll enjoy death and the relief that it'll surely bring until a ferocious roar rips such thoughts into shreds. He finds strength, no matter how little, in that roar because he knows it! Amun!_

_He senses Tia crouching in front of him. She pelts out her share of chilling growls. The burning is gone and through his reforming appendages of ears he can hear the desperate cries of help and screeches of stop. There are squishes and rips, pungent odors of blood and shit and it seems that all the Chaos of the world has boiled down to this moment of time._

_It's gone before he really even notices. The world suddenly too silent._

_He licks his new lips. He can't wait until his eyes are back. He needs to see, to search through the blood of his would-be executioners and see what has made a god such as him feel fear for the first time, to make fire turn traitor to him._

_The buzzing around his eyes recede and he opens them. His vision back to its hawk precision. Tia eases back into her usual casual stance and steps aside. Amun is covered in splatters of dark blood, fenced by dismembered limbs. His mouth is pulled back into a snarl. "What were you thinking?! All my time spent searching and hiding you away, giving you a better life! All my hard work could have been erased in one night. What do you have say, foolish boy!"_

_"I wasn't aware humans could do that," he responds._

_Amun rumbles. Tia shakes her head._

_"They were priestesses of Isis…"_

_Priestess. Shaman. Magician. Enchanter. Warlock. Witch. Whatever. He vows to never cross them again._

Glued to his seat Benjamin wondered what his plan of action would be. You'd think as a vampire his first instinct would be to eradicate the threat — Harry; you'd think that because of all the fictional books and their drivel on vampires being predators. Benjamin called bullshit. Benjamin's first instinct was to survive and survival meant sticking to his promise for all those years ago. He needed to keep away from all magic practitioners including Harry.

The idea shouldn't cause him to frown and squirm in his seat nor should it be the cause of an iron weight settling in the pit of his stomach. Except it was. That was a problem.

But it couldn't be a problem, his senses were already haywire. His vampiric and rational side were together for once, if he recognized Harry as a threat— which he did— then there were no more questions. He had to leave. ButButButButBUT… what was there in But? Harry was— he snorted, his right leg jerking up and down.

Air, he settled. He needed air to think.

He stood up and headed to the front door. He pocketed his wallet and house keys. He was going for a little walk.

**/**

A little walk turned into a trek, then, he was in a cozy hostel; Eden, it was named, handing over his credit card and I.D. to an aging, blond receptionist with lipstick stained teeth. He tapped away at the small wooden counter sending glances over here and there rattling off the necessary information needed to stay.

"How long do you intend to stay?" she asked, her fingers pausing on the computer keys.

"I don't know," he wanted to say. "How long does it take to get rid of one attachment to a green-eyed munchkin?" he swallowed the response opting for a light shrug. "Seven days I guess."

"Alright love, if you decide to stay later or leave earlier just give us ring from your room," she said as she handed him his cards back plus a room key. "Enjoy your stay."

Benjamin flashed her a smile. "I'll try."

It took effort to play human. To pretend like you cared. Humans were social animals. He was not too surprised when a young girl latched onto him in the hostel dormitory. He didn't bother to learn her name, though, he was sure she's told him at least three times and it started with an E. He simply distinguished the human girl by her curly, neon pink hair splattered in violet and the peculiar scent of apples she carried.

Her mouth hadn't stopped moving since he stepped foot in the room. He obliged her though, summoning some degree of fuckery to have a rather lively one-sided conversation.

He knew if he even paused his thoughts would be rerouted to Harry: Harry that he was supposed to be staying away from and not thinking about and yet here he was thinking of his mini-human probably getting ready for bedtime right now… he better have brushed his teeth, Harry had a nasty habit of 'forgetting' to brush his teeth; hopefully, the giraffe had assuaged any fears of him and his random acts of teleportation, and she helped him with his literature homework, double-checked over his maths homework because Harry did a struggle with double-digits and simple fractions and made sure he read aloud from an approved chapter book for at least thirty minutes and jotted down the words he didn't know in his journal like he had taught him; and did Harry even drink a glass of milk with dinner and breakfast, Benjamin read a study earlier this year on children, they were growing and needed to drink at least a glass a day to keep their bones and teeth healthy and strong; additionally, did his munchkin remember to stretch at football practice, Harry also had set the habit of not taking the time to stretch properly, then, complaining of his aches and bruises, somebody really had to watch him, honestly… he promised he'd make Harry's team Basbousa if they won their football—

"Benny?"

Benjamin's eyes flicked from the bed comforter to the girl staring at him with obvious concern. She curled closer around his right arm. "Benny," she repeated. He hated the bastardization of his name. "Are you alright? You stopped breathin—"

"Do you want to go out later tonight, like a club or somethin'?"

She glowed with the invitation. "I'd love too! I know just the place!" she ripped from him. She flounced of the bed, jiggling the mattress as she went. "I have to get ready!"

Benjamin had to admit the girl was amusing. She flailed around in her limited space as she played a game of stepping over the other occupants and apologizing as she gathered her own miscellaneous items somehow already strewn throughout the room. Finally, she seemed to have everything she needed — she sent him a single sheepish grin before she dashed out of the room.

He supposed he needed to get ready too. He rolled off his bedroll and began his walk to the men's bathroom. This club thing needed to work.

**/**

Before he was fully aware he was pulled into a dingy place named East and under a stream of probing multicolored lights and packed into a sea of sweaty bodies. It was easy to get lost in the sway of the heavy beat and to forget his troubles. Here, he was nothing yet something, a mere passing face among the many drifters. Then, he was picked like a ripe fruit from a tree and he let himself be dragged out of the crowd.

Amid the bursts of light he caught flashes of neon pink dipped in violet and a sparkle of blue eyes— E was pushing him through the throng of people packed as tight as sardines until they were alone in a darkened hallway with a single door on the right. She twisted around to give him a dazzling smile, then, she was urging him through the door.

There was nothing behind the door— that's what she wanted— it was just a small, dark space. E latched onto him as soon as the door slammed shut behind them. She didn't waste any time for words, she pressed herself against the wall, her pleated skirt hiked up her quivering pale thighs, his hand guided by her own pushed against her wet sex, stroking the bundle of nerves that had the E panting out wet-gasps and struggling to get closer.

"He's watching," E said.

His fingers freeze. E shook her head, "No no no; move," she hissed. "He won't stick around if—," he cut off her with the slide of his thumb. He doesn't know who He is, but Benjamin does as he is told, his thumb rubbing over her pink nub and his lesser fingers slipping into her sex easily. His pace was languid as he fingers moved in and out, watching E moan and writhe because of him. When this is over, he thought, I will drain her dry. There is nothing quite like a human high off sex.

He rubbed her faster, his fingers a blur as they thrust, he himself leaned forward because of E's impending climax and the moment where he'd pounce.

The door was flung open and dim light from the hall streamed in covering them both in a filthy white, his fingers never paused, although his stare moved from the E still up against the wall to the doorway where a boy stood eyeing them with strange apathy. "Eve," he drawled. 'Eve' snapped out of her pleasure haze. She pushed away from Benjamin, standing up on two shaking legs and fussing with her clothes.

"Go," the boy said to Eve. He waved a dismissive hand and Eve scurried passed them. Now, there was only them. Benjamin wiped his fingers on his jeans studying the boy just as he was studied.

He was young and short, shorter than average, with a waif-like body. He was pale as milk, he looked like the fantasy vampire, those without sunlight and blood. He was inked too… a large black 2 stood on his diminutive Adam's apple and 16 was carved on the left side of his neck and 17 was on his right. His eyes were the color of murky dishwater and his hair was as red and bright as a fire-truck.

"I've been watching you," said the boy.

"So, I've heard," Benjamin responded impishly. The boy smiled at him, two perfect rows of white.

"I want you," he said loftily. "And I mean to have you."

"Alright then." He stepped closer to the boy. "My place or your's?"

"Follow me," the boy said, backing up, allowing Benjamin room enough to leave the closet. He waited until Benjamin was beside him and together they descended further down the hallway.

**/**

The next few days was a whirlwind. It was a tossup between fucking and injecting every illegal drug possible into his system. Of course, the drugs didn't do anything for him and the sex was meaningless but dammit it felt like freedom and the air he craved to clear his mind. The boy —just called the boy— was like a dream-catcher he kept all the thoughts of Harry away, Benjamin reveled in it. He greedily latched onto the redheaded boy, seriously contemplating if this was where he belonged.

Maybe one day he could love the nameless boy he fucked every night and got high with. Maybe he could move down here, wherever here was, and create a new identity. Maybe in ten years if he stayed long enough and this nameless redheaded boy held a name and a definite place in his memory he'll offer him immortality, a place by his side.

Maybe, he told himself, when he rolled off of him and pretended to sleep. Maybe.

He didn't account for the redheaded boy to be so sure of his feelings for him so soon. Benjamin was on the bed watching some bright, glittery game show and the boy was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, and staring at him with a dopey half-grin not unlike the one he usually gained after he smoked a blunt.

"I want you," he said.

"I'm aware."

"Stay with me."

"Aren't I already?" Benjamin said, his attention flicking to the silly boy. The boy shook his head. He padded over to him and made a place for himself in Benjamin's lap.

"No," the boy dropped a kiss on his collarbone. "I mean stay permanently with me. Run East with me, live up here with me, fight me, _**bite me**_, fuck with me— stay with me."

Benjamin blinked. What was he supposed to say… "May I," he licked his lips and attempted a genial grin. "Go outside to think for a bit?"

The boy pouted but nonetheless allowed him to go. "I'll see you in a bit." He pressed a kiss on his lips.

Benjamin nodded. "Yeah."

**/**

Another quick escape for air had him back in Surrey, milling down the paved streets of the cookie-cutter suburbs. Lady Luck deserted him the moment he stepped on his front walk. A familiar silver SUV pulled up onto the driveway of number 4. His best bet would have been to flee into the safety of his house before the ignition shut off— the motor's soft purr cut off— and the doors slid open.

His feet and brain weren't connecting.

His eyes followed the giraffe dressed in jeans and faux cashmere, the beach-ball was stuffed in a thick coat, and Harry was the last out of the vehicle. His football kit green and white painted with dark mud and his knobby knees were dressed in oozing cuts and clumps of grass, his wire-rimmed glasses too big for his face hung askew on his button nose. His cheeks smeared with rosy flush, the little lips twitching at every interval. He was clutching a trophy gold.

The urge to go and give his munchkin a hug overwhelmed him, he didn't think it was possible to miss someone this much.

"Hey! Look Harry! You're boyfriend's back!" the mocking jeer from the beach-ball.

The spell was broken.

A minute shiver from Harry. He could hear his breath hitch from his spot over here— if he believed in a higher power he'd pray for the Earth to be merciful and swallow him before Harry had the chance to look upon him, look at his pathetic self, salted with piss, sweat, semen, and every hallucinogens under the sun. The Earth did not comply. He was still there frozen as if dipped in tar. Harry saw him.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump— Harry swallowed. A foot pressed forward, "Harry—"

He snapped back at his name. He glared at him with green fire then left, running back into the house. The door slammed shut behind him. It took Benjamin a few seconds to realize that awful, squirmy feeling buzzing around in his innards was guilt.

He squashed it down as best he could, which is to say, he squashed it down none. He opened his door and stepped inside. He closed the door with one hand and placed his keys on the table with the other. A precursory glance of his bottom floor told him everything was in the same place, nothing had moved. Great, he came up with blandly. He walked to his couch and sat down.

There he sat and he sat and he sat.

Benjamin had been sitting for so long he imagined if he were a cartoon character living and breathing he'd most likely have a long white beard and bushy white eyebrows by now. The image alone made him snort. He hadn't moved a muscle nor had he blinked in the days since Harry had run back into the house. Instead, he acted like a supernatural stalker and sat there and listened for the sounds of Harry every day. His munchkin left the house promptly at 6:45 am Monday through Friday, running down the sidewalk with his swift footfalls and hissing breathes and stood completely still and silent for a total of ten minutes at his bus stop before the bus pulled up. He never failed to murmur a quiet goodbye to the giraffe –something that astounded Benjamin even now– and he was on the bus. Gone, Gone, Gone.

Benjamin's world was quiet when Harry left. Scarily so. It was as if he were a broken, old radio and he could only pick up one signal and snippets of others. Nothing else. When Harry left for the day he went back to counting —one million, one hundred thousand three, one million, one hundred thousand four…— he passed the hours like this waiting for the familiar heartbeat for his ears to catch, and when he had it, the world began to expand.

Sound and life were suddenly brought back and his lips could do nothing but curl into a smile. Harry ran from the bus, always home before the giraffe and the pig, however, he never went inside and Benjamin knew the front door wasn't locked. Harry skidded to the porch and nothing— Benjamin wondered if Harry was staring at the house trying to see him, maybe hoping that he'd finally come out? Or was that wishful thinking on his part? Either way, he was quiet before the giraffe and pig-child were home. Then, he was back inside working on homework before football practice—

Benjamin's favorite part of the day was listening to Harry sleep. He could see Tia right now, giving him that hard stare for this nonsense. Harry's heartbeat slowed to rhythmic lull and light snores came out intervals, if he listened he almost felt sleepy himself.

One million, seven hundred thousand five… one million, seven hundred thousand six… one million, seven hundred thousand seven… a sharp rapping against his door. His eyes rolled back down from the ceiling to the door as slow as molasses. Who?— another rap against his door and the little cheery chime reverberating through his home.

He couldn't deny his curiosity. So, he glided up from his seat and to the door. It was definitely a surprise to see Petunia Dursley darkening his doorstep. He leaned against the archway crossing his arms.

"Petunia," he said curtly.

She fingered the large silver cross around her neck. That hadn't been there before. "Benjamin," she sniffed. "I have been meaning to ask you something, but you've seem to have caught a bit of Agoraphobia."

Benjamin curled his fists. "Something like that, yes." He cleared his throat. "What would you like to ask me?"

"Right; I'd like to invite to you to tea at one," she said.

"Pardon?" his hearing was wonky from sitting down so long, he did not just hear what he thought he heard.

"Tea," she repeated, speaking to him as if he were slow. "At one, today, don't be late."

He was sure he resembled a dead fish. She merely nodded at him. "I'll see you. Goodbye."


End file.
